


Scapegoat

by vegalocity



Category: Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes
Genre: Guilt, Light Pining, M/M, Past Mind Control, Post-Purple Man, Pre-Slash, SA3, Stevetonystudios, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony is the world's scapegoat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 19:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegalocity/pseuds/vegalocity
Summary: Tony is used to taking the majority of the blame with his company, so of course he was alright with doing the same with the Avengers.Everyone had learned at this point to just let him do it. Everyone of course, except for Steve.





	Scapegoat

**Author's Note:**

> This was my contribution to the Stevetony Anthology! This was such a pleasure to write, I'm so glad to be involved!

Tony was used to taking the blame for things that weren't necessarily his fault. It was something that came along with being the CEO of a technology company; Every so often, something will go wrong, somewhere down the line, someone will overlook a variable, or round a decimal they shouldn't have. In the end it was just inescapable and when they were dealing with innovation and technology, that meant when things went wrong, someone might end up hurt or killed.

 

And when that happened he would call a press conference, and humbly take the blame for what happened―because in the end any oversight down the line would be his own, granted he personally hired most, if not all, of his staff.

 

And so when the Avengers came into his life he had no problem with doing the same. Sure, there were times when reporters would pointedly go after certain avengers they thought would be interesting to toy with, but for the most part, Iron Man was the Avengers' leader, PR department, and scapegoat.

 

He was fine with that. It was his life before the Avengers, so why wouldn't he be fine with it?

 

In a way he actually relied on it, if the reporters were swarming him with questions about why the Avengers did or didn't do something, that meant they weren't crowding the others. Also―and he was objective enough to admit this―with T'challa, Hank, and now Vision on the crew, there wasn't too much he could contribute to the team that someone else couldn't take over if pressed.

 

So he used his training as a businessman to his advantage. T'challa had to remain away from the press―being the king of a foreign country, if he even tried to justify the actions of the Avengers, his words would be skewed into a political format. And Jan, while gifted in PR, would wilt completely under the almost nonstop attention and release of statements.

 

If he handled the press, then nobody else had to.

 

Clint wouldn't have to nearly punch a reporter in the face, Steve wouldn't look one cue away from defaulting to his original public speaking lessons and start selling war bonds, Carol wouldn't have to worry about seeming to choose the Avengers over SWORD―all in all everyone was better off.

 

What made him most infuriated at the end of the Skrull fiasco―after The battle had been won, after the paranoia had passed and he'd had run routine scans through the mansion to alert him should any Skrull DNA be present at any time―was when the public decided not to listen to the explanation that had been told to them honestly. Steve was wrongfully scapegoated for an oversight on the Avengers' behalf. An oversight on his behalf.

 

He talked to everyone he possibly could to clear Steve's name. As many government officials as would listen to him, did every exclusive he could possibly fit into his schedule, stressed that Steve was blameless and the issue was an oversight from the Avengers in general, specifically his oversight. Allowing his feelings of betrayal and paranoia to cloud his judgment and running off to Malibu when his team had needed him most.

 

And he'd been convincing. People were used to Tony Stark being the fall-guy for Stark Industries, making him the fall-guy for the Avengers was the easiest thing to do considering the circumstances. He'd gotten every paper to stop circulation of 'Captain America, traitor to the planet' articles, and instead circulate recycled exposés questioning Tony's reliability as leader of the Avengers.

 

Every paper, of course, except for the Daily Bugle. But no matter how much hell he personally threw in that building, J. Jonah Jameson was the most stubborn man he'd ever met, and that included a startling amount of the supervillains they'd faced.

 

But nevertheless, eventually even Jameson stepped off of Steve and went back to his smear campaign against Spider-Man. And Tony was―relatively―happy.

 

By now most of the team had figured out that this was just how Tony handled the PR for the Avengers, and finally―finally―the concerned glances at him over the newspaper were changed with exasperated annoyance.

 

Jan would pat his shoulder and insist he model her newest design to try and get both of their minds off of the whole thing. Thor would insist that what he was doing to keep the people's trust was as honorable as any fight, usually before challenging him to a training session. Clint would often read the headline aloud and crumple the paper up in over exaggerated irritation to try and make him laugh, most of the time it worked. But no matter who it was overlooking an article featuring Tony taking the fall for something that was only his fault because he was the leader, he appreciated the care. Even if he himself didn't care much about it anymore.

 

But Steve... oh boy. While everyone else had come to the conclusion that they couldn't stop this, that this was simply what Tony did as their impromptu PR department. Steve didn't. He read the paper every morning. He read whichever paper was at their door that hadn't been snatched up by someone else, and whenever there was an article about the Avengers in any negative connotation―whenever Tony had done a press release about Avengers issues, doing his usual song and dance―he'd look up from the top of the Paper and give Tony a pensive, worried, look.

 

But after he'd been used by the Purple Man―after his brain had been poked and prodded and manipulated by Killgrave, After he'd taken over the entire planet and had his stray ideas brought to life and used against his friends―He needed a moment before he went to the press and did what he always did.

 

He watched construction workers take down one of the billboards he'd been manipulated into putting up, the mauve irises of his Billboard image offset by the phrase 'A better world' practically bored into him. Pierced right though the Arc reactor and into his stubbornly pounding heart.

 

“ _Don't pretend like this wasn't your idea in the first place. Everything I've made you do in the last few weeks? It all came from you. ”_

 

At least this time he wasn't just guilty because he was the Avengers' figurehead. This time it really was his fault. He might not have been the one to make the decisions, but if he hadn't considered such... terrible things... had never considered the Sentries, never wondered in a bored stupor how complicated bureaucracy would be if some supervillan actually _did_ take over the world, Purple Man would have had nothing to work with.

 

First thing tomorrow, he would be getting to making sure his lack of proper willpower over the past few weeks didn't reflect poorly on the Avengers as a whole. Pepper had already texted him about how a couple of communities were already making effigies of him to burn, so it would have to be first thing in the morning.

 

A news release over breakfast.

 

Rhodey called him about an hour ago―part of his 'taking over the world' debacle had involved putting Rhodey on paid leave so he could spend some time with his friend (Purple Man really had thought of everything to make him as emotionally complacent as possible) and had told him his higher ups had immediately ordered for his re-deployment.

 

“ _None of this is your fault, Tones. Some people might not believe it―hell,_ you _might not believe it―but this clusterfuck? Not. Your. Fault.”_

 

And honestly? Some part of him wished he could believe his best friend. Rhodey knew him better than anyone. He should know that while Tony's intrusive thoughts had a tendency to be a touch on the megalomaniacal side, he would never dream of acting on them.

 

Still...

 

” _Stark, I just gave you the push you needed!”_

 

It wasn't fun to have a literal supervillan point out everything he ever worried about himself.

 

“Iron Man?”

 

Tony jolted in place, spinning on his heel to see Steve. His cowl was still up―he was still, to some degree, in Captain America mode.

 

For a moment Tony wondered if the others had had some sort of meeting and decided he had to leave the team; maybe Cap drew the short straw and had to be the one to tell him.

 

But the furrow in his brow wasn't that of someone preparing themselves for a 'you're fired' speech―a speech he was well acquainted with, so he did know the signs―nor was his stance anything but the firm parade rest of the paragon of American virtue he was well acquainted with.

 

“Hey, Cap.”

 

He didn't bother trying to plaster a fake smile on, he knew Steve would see right through it in a heartbeat if he tried―so after the greeting he simply turned his gaze back to the construction workers, trying to remove the stain he'd put on the world, billboard by billboard.

 

Steve came a little closer and for a moment Tony almost feared his approach. He might still be dangerous, some sort of grip of another being might still be messing around in his brain and he might not even know it.

 

“Are you alr-”

 

“It'll take some time” He cut Steve off. He couldn't handle a loaded question right now, he wasn't prepared. Couldn't he just drown himself in guilt? Just this once? “But I'll put it right. Everything I did, I'll fix.”

 

Steve stepped forward, meeting him at the edge of the rooftop and stepping half on top of the ledge. Steve turned to look at him―his oh-so-serious expression had that same sort of determined glint in it that Tony could remember through a purple haze.

 

An expression that said he believed in him, even if it was with his dying breaths.

 

He didn't want to make anyone have to feel bad for him―his whole mess was caused by the twisted things he made up in his head, brought to fruition by a third party.

 

“You know, ever since I became Iron Man, I've been working to keep weapons out of the wrong hands.” He actually found it in himself to grin then, wry yet humorless, like he were about to burst into laughter and tears at the same time. “And then I became the weapon.”

 

Steve's expression, Tony wasn't sure if he had the word to describe what he saw flicker across his generally stony look. He'd seen something similar before, when Rhodey used to catch him in his depressive spirals back at MIT, when Pepper would catch him tapping mindlessly at the Arc Reactor after a particularly harrowing business meeting.

 

A look similar to worry but going past the patented question of if he was alright. As though he already knew the answer was no, but was unsure of what he could actually say to try and help.

 

“Nobody blames you Tony.”

 

Tony almost wanted to laugh at that. It was an attempt at reassurance sure, and it was coming from Steve, so it was sure to be as heartfelt as they come. But that didn't make it right.

 

“Everyone knows it was the Purple Man. We were all in the same boat as you.” And wouldn't that have been just the ideal.

 

Maybe that would have worked if Vision had been the only one up and about, fighting them, and freeing him.

 

“No.” He turned away just barely catching Steve's expression shift again from the corner of his eye. Something timelessly sad flickered across his face when he denied the opportunity to shrug off the blame. “You shook his control. So did the others. The ideas came from my brain. And I'm taking the fall for it.”

 

“Just as you take the fall for the Hulk getting a little too overzealous in smashing? Or Ultron going haywire to keep Hank from putting too much guilt onto himself?” His voice was tight, like he'd been wanting to talk to Tony about this for awhile, and had finally found an opening.

 

“Really? Right now?” he responded, annoyance pricking in the back of his throat. Honestly, he dealt with this fight more times than he could count from Rhodey, Jan, and Pepper, he honestly wasn't sure if he could handle it from Steve too.

 

“Tony.”

 

Did he ever mention how aggravating the Disappointed Cap Voice could be whilst he was trying to make a point?

 

“Steve,” he replied, trying his hardest to copy the inflection.

 

When he turned back to Steve he saw the minor tic in his jaw that proved that he actually pulled it off rather well.

 

“You know, one of these days you're going to be completely right on an issue, but because everyone is used to you taking the fall for the team as though they were your own mistakes, nobody's going to believe you.”

 

What was his point in all of this?

 

“Look, I've had this argument a million times, Cap; I really don't need the millionth and one for the inarguable time that something is my fault.”

 

He heard more than felt Steve's hand rest onto his shoulder then. Steve looked him directly in the eye, practically daring him to interrupt him.

 

“You were fighting too. It was practically impossible for how much time Purple Man was near you, but you were. After how long you'd been exposed to him, almost anyone else would have given up by then, but not you.”

 

Steve smiled at him then and Tony tried to convince himself that the stinging sensation along the edges of his eyes was solely due to stress.

 

“And I don't think you forgot about Vision either. I think you sent me there because you knew he would be able to get through to me―Tony, you were fighting him the whole time.”

 

He wanted to say something to that, that wishful thinking could only get them so far, that Steve's theories wouldn't stop the public from wanting to string him up and send him to 42. But something kept him from doing just that. Something he couldn't name but lingered on the tip of his tongue.

 

Steve smiled just a touch wider at him, an emotion like warmth dancing across his face.

 

“You've always said you believe in the future, but I believe in people.”

 

Steve squeezed his shoulder plate a little harder, and Tony was unable to feel it through the armor―he really wished for a moment that he had forgone the suit this evening so he could feel it

 

“And I choose to believe in you, Iron Man.” His hand dropped from Tony's shoulder, but the warm look on his face didn't fade.

 

You know, there were downsides to being completely infatuated with Captain America, but the weird mix of relief and happiness that bubbled up in his gut wasn't in any way shape or form one of them.

 

“And we put it to a vote―you're taking tomorrow off. Wasp and I will cover press relations regarding the Purple Man. You deserve rest, Tony.”

 

And honestly, what could he say to that? Put to a vote among the other Avengers, so no matter what he'd say the rest of them would stubbornly back Steve up.

 

He reluctantly let Steve put his arm around his shoulders and guide him back inside.

 

As it turned out, everyone had decided to take a brief post-brainwashing staycation. Carol, Clint, Jan, Vision, Thor, and even Hank were all in different states of relaxation in one of the main rooms. Jan and Hank cuddling in a small nest of pillows, Clint perched on top of the couch that Carol and Thor were splayed along. Vision sat alone on the floor, legs crossed and seemingly content. The lot of them seemed to brighten up, even just a little, at seeing himself and Steve in the doorway.

 

They weren't complete. Not by any stretch of the imagination, T'challa was still making sure Wakanda could tick right without him, and the Hulk was still in captivity for nothing that was his fault. But as many of them that <i>could</i> be here were.

 

Jan's grin was practically cheshire-like as she hopped up―much to Hank's clear disgruntlement―and zipped over to the two of them.

 

“Tony! Steve! Change out of your uniforms ya dweebs, we're watching The Thing and then IT! I wanna see Thor shriek like that time we marathonned the Nightmare on Elm Street films!”

 

Thor puffed up behind Jan, affront on his features. “I was simply taken aback at the gruesome legends Midguardians celebrate so intensely.”

 

“Come on! Off you two go! Don't come back until you're in civvies!”

 

Jan began to shoo the two of them off, but before they could get down the hall proper Jan had one last quip for them.

 

“And if you two are too busy hitting first base somewhere else we're starting without you!” she singsonged.

 

For a moment he'd wanted to swat Jan upside the head. If he wasn't as good at keeping his composure as he always was, he might have died right on the spot.

 

But when he'd turned to Steve to lightly apologize for Jan being more Jan-ish than usual, Steve wasn't giving her the Official Disappointed Face.

 

The bottoms of his cheeks had turned bright red, and though he could barely see Steve's expression under his cowl, he had a feeling that the majority of his face had followed suit.

 

If today hadn't been such a roller coaster he would want to do something about it. Or at least find an outlet for a feeling he could actually place as hope...

 

But from everything that's happened today?

 

Steve was right. Today was a day of rest. He could 'thank' him for handling the press tomorrow.

 

Because nobody was taking the fall for this except for the Purple Man.

 

(But, honestly?) This was the only time he'd let that concept slide. Come next mission he was handling PR again.

 

And no amount of Cap pep talks, hands on his shoulders, or―dare he hope―hands holding his, could change that.

 


End file.
